Rules to Survive
by VioletLolitaPop
Summary: When they first met, America told him his list of basic zombie survival rules. As they travel together, Ivan can't help but feel as though they're breaking some of the more important ones. .:Human!AU Zombie Apocalypse:.


**1. Don't eat too much of the supplies and be careful with the drinking water.**

"Just because you're Russian," the blonde tells him, "doesn't mean you'll be getting more food. I know you have that need to be strong like bear and all, but that ain't gonna fly with me."

"That's stereotyping," Ivan scowls.

America only shrugs. "Stereotyping's what America does best."

"I'm not sure that's the best way to be patriotic. And besides, shouldn't I be more concerned with you eating all the food?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that America has a reputation for being, y'know, fat."

"You live here too."

"Yeah, but I'm Russia, remember? That was your call."

"Well, what else am I supposed to call you?"

"I don't know, maybe by my name? I already tried to tell you it's-"

"Shut up! Shut up! I can't hear you!"

"Alright!" Ivan cries out. "I can deal with the code names, you don't have to be a spazz about it. I have some of my own stuff too, so you can relax about me eating any of your food."

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of brand name vodka. He takes a swig before handing the bottle out to the other as a sort of peace offering.

"I can't drink that," America tells him. "I'm not old enough."

This is the first, but would certainly not be the last, time Ivan wonders why he decided to follow the other that fateful day they first met. Going wherever alone may be the saner option, but looking at it from glass half-full standpoint, it probably would be a lot more lonely and a lot less fun.

Ivan scoffs, the idiot's already rubbing off on him.

**2. Don't waste any ammo.**

Ivan's eye twitches with every shot the other takes. For the past twenty minutes, America has been firing off at a tin can that had been put up for some kind of target practice by whomever it was that lived in the farmhouse they take residence in for a small rest.

"Dammit," the blonde swears. "It's not even that far away."

He loads up his Winchester with more shells and cocks it, takes aim, and fires. Ivan's eye twitches, again. America misses, again.

It's not so much the hypocritical way America goes about running through his ammunition after being so hard on Ivan for minding his own as it is the sheer careless way he doesn't mind making so much noise that gives away their position. Yes, they had cleared the nearby surroundings and checked around for any infected persons, but Ivan hardly realizes the worth of jeopardizing their safety for a piece of flimsy metal.

"I'ma get it this time," America says more to himself than to his counterpart. "Watch."

Not being able to take any more of it, Ivan takes out his revolver and aims carefully before firing. It turns out to be a direct hit, throwing the can off from the fence post.

America gapes at the smoking gun Ivan lowers to his side. The other turns his violet eyes towards the blonde, waiting for him to complain over taking his shot or maybe for even wasting ammo like he had told him not to.

Instead, America smiles at him and asks, "Can you show me how to shoot like that?"

It takes an entire day and a quarter of their supplies, but Ivan does show America the proper way to shoot and he really can't bring himself to care.

**3. Always be armed.**

A rule that is based solely on common sense. There's no telling when one of those foul beings will suddenly sneak up behind either one of them for a surprise attack.

"Oh my God!" America exclaims. "Is that water?"

For several weeks the only water they've had any contact with had been strictly for drinking use only, leaving them to feel greasy and unkempt despite the several clothing changes they make with scavenged articles from vacant stores and the like. So when they finally do come across a large body of water in a desolate area, America drops everything he carries and races for the shore, stripping of his clothing while doing so.

He's so blinded with excitement over the promise of being able to bathe that he fails to take any precautions with the surroundings. If Ivan hadn't been with him to take out the creature that comes lumbering out from the nearby forestry, there'd be no telling what would have happened to him.

Ivan lowers down the rifle and stalks over to America, the blonde slowly lifting his pants back up his legs and buttons them again.

"How were you able to survive by yourself ?" Ivan asks him.

"I'm just really awesome that way?" the other tries to laugh off.

Ivan shakes his head and thrusts the rifle into America's chest. "Just for that," he says, "I'm taking a bath first, you can keep watch."

"That's not fair!"

**4. Always keep moving; never at night.**

Ivan isn't all too sure what America meant by this rule when he listed it off when they first met. At the time, he gathered they would be constantly moving from location to location, and instead it's somewhat of the opposite. They had stayed in a boarded up loft setting before setting out together and since then they've been taking up permanent temporary residence in abandoned homes and whatnot, eating out the supplies before moving on to the next.

At one point, they even consider staying put in a fairly large home, thinking to simply board up extra windows and entrances and rummage through the semi-empty city streets for more goods when their provisions inside run out. It's only a passing thought, eventually they leave and move on to what is their current shelter, a smaller home in a smaller town, eating raviolis from a can amongst spread out pillows and comforters and a low burning lamp. Despite the gurgles and groans coming from beyond the wood covered window panes and the reachable weaponry, the scene is comforting in it's own way.

"This is actually kind of nice," Ivan comments absently.

America nods in agreement all the same. "Yeah, even with those fifty something creepers out there moaning away."

"Well when you say something like that, it kind of kills it."

"Life would be a lot easier if that was true."

"…That was a horrible joke."

**5. Pets are a liability.**

When a fairly young Boxer crosses their path one day, Ivan thinks little of the animal. America on the other hand, races up to the pup and starts to fawn over it. Already, the other male realizes that this is going to be a problem.

"No," he says with a stern tone as America looks back at him.

"I didn't even ask you anything yet," the blonde pouts.

"You want to take the dog along, no."

"But he can't get infected, so it should be fine."

Before Ivan can make a retort, the Boxer pads up to him and lifts a paw up to touch him. He looks down at the pup and is given a pleading look, asking to be taken care of and loved, to be protected in these dark days. Ivan blinks away and looks over at America, only to be bombarded with another case of the puppy eyed dog effect.

Ivan grits his teeth and looks away. He knows, he just _knows_, that he's going to regret saying it.

"Fine."

America cries out with joy and envelopes Ivan into a hug before scooping the dog up into his arms and snuggles it up to his chest. Even if means rationing off their supplies for three now, Ivan begrudgingly begins to feel a kinship to the pup as well. And if just by being around brings out so many happy smiles from the other male, then fine, having it tag along may be alright for a little while.

Though a few weeks later, after hotwiring an abandoned car back to life and driving it up to the outskirts of a small town, the very reason why the "no pets" rule was established to begin with happens.

They take cover in an abandoned home, boarding all openings as usual before settling down for the night and make scavenging plans to act out once morning comes. Though sometime during America's watch, one of the infected passes close to the home, alerting the Boxer and causing him to bark. The pup's yelping not only wakes Ivan, but it calls the attention to the nearby horde wandering the night and before either one is locked and loaded, they start to claw at the boarded windows.

Soon enough, arms covered in half-decomposed flesh shoot through the planks and pound at the front door. America fires repeatedly into the skulls of those that have already broken through their wooden barriers while Ivan retreats to the back of the house where their bags remained and checks their emergency escape route. He tosses their supplies through a newly opened window when he's sure there's no surprise attackers to be had and races back to the front room to retrieve America.

He returns to the sight of the Boxer attacking the arms of zombies that have fisted through the front door and America reloading to save the dog. Ivan grabs him by the wrist and leads him away from the scene, into the back room.

The blonde wrestles in his grip and shouts, "But the dog!"

"I'm not letting you get killed over a dog!" Ivan yells back and drags him through the portal

America mopes for a few days after their narrow escape, but the mood doesn't last more than a week, thankfully enough, and when he does snap back to his usual demeanor, Ivan thinks that he's finally learned his lesson and the whole event is something that will not be repeated.

And then America approaches him with a kitten.

**6. Avoid big cities.**

"Hey, Russia," America calls out to him. "You ever been to Austin?"

Ivan looks over his shoulder to the sight of his blonde companion fashioning a spare bit of rope into a lasso as he walks. The two have been traveling on foot for the better part of a month, keeping up pace in a fairly dense wood area with little to no contact with any of the Infected. As of current, the path they take is a worn hiker's route towards an unknown destination. With any luck, they'll come across an abandoned gas station or something of the like before long.

In any case, Ivan pauses in his step to watch America make his miniature lasso and attempt to use it as such, all while saying, "No, I haven't, but I don't think we should go anytime soon."

"Well obviously," America replies and tries to swing the rope around. "But I was thinking, you think they have cowboy zombies in Texas?"

"I think cowboys are more up north. Like Wyoming."

"Why Wyoming?"

"It is called the Cowboy State."

"God, I would give anything just to be able to google that," America sighs. "Anyway, I saw a cowboy in Austin once. Yeah, one time I was visiting with some of my cousins who lived in Texas and we went into Austin, right? So when we got-"

"America does this have a point, or is just another random story?"

"Well, I was gonna tell ya, that this place looks kinda familiar to me and that we're pro'ly in Texas and if we're not careful, we might end up going towards Austin."

"Even if that was true, I still doubt the possibility of any cowboy zombies."

The second his sentence ends, a gargling moan emits from only a few short feet away from them and the sounds of feet dragging themselves because more audible with each passing moment. The two quickly maneuver themselves back to back while readying their quick drawing arms. The stench of the undead reaches them long before they're able to spot it, and when it does come into their line of sight, they're both slightly too taken aback to do anything.

This zombie that emerges, while sporting numerous open wounds and sores leaking pus and other bodily fluids, is the first they've seen to be dressed almost immaculately. Ivan almost wants to laugh at the plaid flannel tucked into a pair of jeans (all covered in guts and grime) and the cowboy hat still on top of it's head. He quickly sobers up though, as the ghouls jaw begins to unhinge once it spots them and moves to limp in their direction.

They both fire at the creature before it's even able to take one step towards them simultaneously. Ivan turns to look at the blonde, who in turn only looks as though they've just made the zombie kill of the week.

"What I tell ya?" he grins. "Cowboy zombie."

Ivan looks away, back towards the fresh kill. "We should probably rethink are our direction."

"Yeah, that'd be a good idea."

**7. You can't always be a hero.**

It's a regular occurrence whenever they do end up in a former largely populated area to hear the screams of a survivor that has finally been cornered. It's also normal for America to drop whatever it is he's going at the time to run after whomever is in danger, just as it is for Ivan to chase after him and hold him back from doing anything stupid.

"It's too late to help them," Ivan tells him while holding the other close to his body to keep him from scampering away to play Hero.

America looks back at him, his eyes pleading with him to be let go. Ivan shakes his head in the negative, dead set on his decision and only releases America from his grip when the determination disappears from his eyes. The only expression left to be read from them are those of guilt and remorse.

The two end up settling down next to each other, not speaking and in America's not even looking at anything other than his lap. When he does makes eye contact with Ivan, there's a slight edge of anger hidden in the depths of his blue eyes.

"I went after you," he says.

"No, you came across me," Ivan corrects. "I was holding my own, you just gave me a helping hand."

"I still helped."

"Yes, and I thank you for that. But that scream you just heard, that's not the same thing. Whoever that was, you can't help them when that happens and you'll just end up wandering in a death trap."

America turns away from him, his shoulders sag under the weight of understanding as he comes to accept Ivan's words for truth.

"I just wanna help," he confesses.

"And you will," Ivan replies. "When you can."

With a wear sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and briefly contemplates what he should say to comfort his downtrodden friend. "If it means anything, that day we met, you were my hero."

America snorts and then laughs a little too loud for his own good. "Dude, that's so gay."

"Last time I try to comfort you then."

Again, the blonde only laughs before snuggling his head up against Ivan's shoulder. "I'm just playing," he says. "Thanks."

"Your welcome. I'm not really sure if that's the right way to comfort something but…"

"For you, it's fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." America lets out a heavy sigh and says, "I really wanna help people though."

"I know," Ivan tells him. "And that's fine, but you should think before you do that. There's no sense of you leaving me just to go get killed."

"Leaving you, huh?"

"I didn't mean it that way."

"How would you mean it?"

Ivan pushes his head off from his shoulder and stands up. "Come on," he says, "we have to finish boarding this place up."

As time goes on, night begins to settle and the two hole up in their temporary shelter, a few more screams are heard, each time gaining the blonde's attention. Each time it occurs, he takes one look at Ivan who looks back at him questioningly enough, and each time he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

**8. Double tap.**

The rule stems from one of America's most favorite movies, and yet the blonde continues to be too arrogant in his bettering aim to even consider the action these days. Often enough, it doesn't seem to be too much of an issue, since as long as they kill the brain they kill the ghoul. Still, always better safe than sorry as he's sure to learn as they walk through the aisles of an abandoned convenience store and he gives only a single blow to a zombie in their path.

"Yippekiyay, motherfucker!" he whoops before taking long strides towards the corpse. "Ain't got nothing on me."

"It's already dead," Ivan's only to kind to remind him as he follows close behind.

"You don't have to be such a killjoy."

Just as he's about to kick the body away from a selection of canned goods, Ivan says, "You should fire another into it's head."

"It's already dead," the other repeats mockingly and kicks at the body. "What was the rule about saving ammo?"

The creature's hand shoots up and grabs at his leg. America cries out and tries to kick the appendage away before he becomes a target for being bitten. Ivan quickly fires another round into it's skull, effectively killing the being once and for all.

America pulls away the second the grip around his leg is loose enough and kicks the evil thing away. While he recovers from his trauma, Ivan stocks up on their supplies, filling their bags with enough food that won't be any sort of inconvenience to them.

"What was that rule about double tapping?" he asks condescendingly.

"Always," America instantly answers. "Always double tap."

Ivan claps on his shoulder and gives him a small smile. "Glad to know you learned your lesson."

**9. Always be on guard, don't get distracted.**

In a time that needs anyone to be at full alert, this rule has always been one followed with little leeway for anything else. The many scenarios brought on by ignoring the "no pets" rule prove that.

But by the low glow of one of their lamps, America's hands are tangled in Ivan's hair as the other trails open mouthed kisses along his jaw line and down to the base of his throat. The blonde cries out softly when he laps at the skin and moves his hands down to Ivan's chest. He begins to fumble with the buttons of his shirt and pushes it off Ivan's shoulders once the last one's been undone. Ivan allows himself to be undressed, even pushed back as America takes his turn to be dominant.

He watches through half-lidded eyes as America quickly works his way down to the waist of his pants and unsnaps the button, tugging them over his hips and freeing his straining erection. The blonde wraps his hands around the base and smirks up at him before taking a slow lick at the underside of the shaft. Ivan closes his eyes and let's his head loll back at the feel of America's tongue wrap around the tip of his erection and engulfs it whole.

He let's out a low groan at the hotness surrounding his member, and his hand automatically shoots out for the shotgun nearby, it being so used to the command whenever the sound is heard. It's at this that has Ivan remember the situation they're in, the precautions they need to take with remaining quiet and on guard at all times, and shakes America's shoulders for his attention.

"W-ait," he gasps. "America, wait, stop."

America looks up at him in what would have been an innocent questioning manner if he wasn't in the middle of sucking the other off. He slowly lifts his mouth back up and removes himself completely from the other's member with a soft pop.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"It's just that… Doing something like this would be really distracting," Ivan tells him. "Don't you think?"

America mulls the thought over, all while subconsciously running his thumb over the slit of Ivan's penis before making his agreement. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It'd be better if we were on guard."

Ivan stops him from straightening himself out though, his earlier actions having him rethink the thought and says, "Although, you know, because we're pretty much living day to day now, this might be the only chance we'll ever have…"

Again, America considers the thought, though maybe for not as long as the last and again, all while absently stroking at the hard length still in his hand. The movement has Ivan curling his hands up against the floor in need and as soon as the blonde gives his consent to continue, he tackles the other to the ground and strips off his pants.

**10. Don't get too close to any survivors.**

These days it's hard to know when anyone's going to be trampled over by the undead and ripped apart or (God forbid) turned into one of them. The more distance put up between any individual and those they may meet under whatever circumstance, the better. It's the whole reason America insists Ivan call him America and he in turn calls him Russia. Names are too familiar and sharing information creates bonding. If one of them was to fall under the Infection, the other would have to continue on, keep surviving, as though nothing ever happened.

As Ivan lays in a stranger's bed one night after another session of "distraction", feeling sated and whatnot, he thinks of this rule while playing with the golden strands that make up America's hair as the other clings to him in his sleep. He looks to the shotgun standing nearby for easy access, to the boarded door barricaded with extra security that would give them time to escape onto the roof just in case, and back once more to the blonde splayed on top of his chest.

"You're an idiot," he mutters.

"Yeah, fuck you too."

Ivan freezes at the mumbled words against his chest and raises himself up, only slightly but still enough for America to lift away from him and rub whatever sleep laid itself to rest from his eyes.

"I thought you were sleeping," Ivan tells him.

"Like I'm gonna fall asleep naked with those things out there." America moves to sit up slowly, wincing at the soreness he feels running up from the bottom of his spine. "You jerk, you went too hard again."

Ivan only smiles. "How am I supposed to resist you begging me to take you as hard as I can?"

America glares at him before he throws the blankets off of himself and makes his way to the conjoined bathroom in search of towels and the like. Ivan removes himself from the bed as well, planning to clean himself up to the best of his abilities before redressing. Just as he starts to dress himself though, America cries out and calls his immediate attention to the bathroom. Ivan bursts through the door, alarmed and searching for any problem he might have come across.

America steps out from the shower with a bottle in hand, smiling away. "This is my favorite shampoo," he says before his grin dies down. "Aw, I wish the water was running."

Instead of sighing in relief or shaking his head at the stupidity that his companion displays, Ivan cuffs him on the back of the head and berates him for making him think something serious had happened.

Later on, during his time to stand guard, Ivan continues his train of thought from before (with adding all the extra events that occurred in between as well) and realizes that out of all the rules that have been overlooked, the last is probably the most unwise to break. But as he sighs heavily because of the awareness, he also comes to recognize that there's really nothing to be done about it, even if he wanted to.

So, Ivan keeps his guard up for the sake of protecting this loud spazz of a man that burst into his life with a blast of his shotgun and an overused movie quote, thinking that maybe tomorrow he'll finally get America to tell him his real name.

**xxx**

Disclaimer: Is this the end of the world or just the start of the fight? You better heed my warning and watch out for their bite.

- So I literally woke up at 2:13 am, grabbed my notebook, and wrote all this by candlelight... I was too comfy to get up from my futon to turn on the lamp. -cough- And yeah, it was pretty much because an hour or so earlier, my youngest sister and I were talking about what rules we should follow for the impending zombie apocalypse. Because that's just how our slumber parties roll.

-Anyway, this is kind of like a connecting thing for a longer series that I have in the works, but not really. 'Cause that one's not romantic. Hell, this one wasn't supposed to be either, but it always happens whenever I write with these two! -flails- Someone needs to stop me!

-But yeah, that's kind of like why there's some vague background info and stuff that prolly won't even happen in the actual series. Srsly, that's not as campy as this was. -_-;

-Prizes for anyone who spots the Night of the Living Dead reference.^^ I'd offer one for the Zombieland references, but I think they're just too obvious. Kudos if you know them though. :)


End file.
